Charlies Zipper Incident
by luvscharlie
Summary: Bill and Charlie get their first Muggle clothes. Charlie has an incident with his.


_Charlie's Zipper Incident_ by Luvscharlie

"Oh, dear Mother of Merlin! Fuck! Bloody fucking hell!"

Bill heard all of this from outside the bedroom door he and Charlie shared. And Charlie had best be glad it was him. If their mother heard that kind of talk coming from behind the door—well, Bill didn't even like to think what Charlie's backside might look like when her broom got through with it. In fact, he thought, sticking out his tongue in disgust, the thought of Charlie's backside at all was rather—well, unpleasant.

Still, they shared a closeness that he didn't share with his other brothers, and if Charlie went and got himself confined to the room for his filthy mouth, they wouldn't be able to go to that Muggle club that they'd been planning on all week. Christmas holidays were almost over, and their parents had finally relented that they weren't babies anymore and could go out for a night on their own. After all, he and Charlie were 17 and 15, respectively, Bill had argued, and they were granted far more liberties at school. If they could be trusted there, why not at home?

The argument had been one of his best, and he was most eloquent even on his worst day. So, his parents had relented. He and Charlie had even gone out and gotten new clothes with part of their Christmas money—no wizard robes—real, Muggle apparel. Bill had worked extra hard to make sure that the denims fit his arse just right, getting his Mum to let them out a bit here (the crotch of course) and take them in a bit there (so that they hugged his behind just so), and he'd left Charlie alone to try his own for the same adjustments (though he was quite certain his _little_ brother wouldn't be needing to let the crotch out). He laughed to himself. That never really did get old. It was always funny, no matter how many times he said it. A high pitched squeal from other side of the door brought Bill out of his own thoughts. He flung open the door to their room quickly in order to shush Charlie's ranting, after a quick look both ways down the hall to make sure their mum was nowhere in sight.

"Charlie, I can hear you through the door. Mum's going to have your hide if she hears your nasty mouth. What's going—"

And Bill, stopped there. Charlie turned around, his face a bit purple, as he hopped from foot to foot.

"What is wrong with you?" Bill exclaimed. "You look like your head's turned into a giant, purple plangentine, and I never did much take to Herbology." Bill grinned at his own bit of cheek.

"Oh, shut your bloody gob and help me, you big pillock!"

"Well," Bill said with a tug at his waistband, "_it_ is big. But don't worry, mate, you've still got a bit of growing to do. I'm sure eventually you'll--"

"Stop it! Stop the bloody cheek. I've caught my wanger in the zipper. And I swear, Bill, if you don't help me, I'll beat you within an inch of your miserable life when I'm able."

"What am I supposed to do to help?" Bill asked, as he tried to get Charlie to stop hopping. Even imagining his own wanger caught in the teeth of that awful Muggle device made Bill wince and feel as though someone had kicked him in the belly. And while he felt sympathy, he had no desire to touch Charlie's… well, you know… and he couldn't see much way around that.

Bill started forward, backed away and began to pace. It was Charlie's next words that moved him into action, cause he had no doubt, when Charlie made a threat, he usually meant it. And Bill had no desire to risk his manhood on the slight chance that this might be the time Charlie was bluffing.

"I swear, Bill if my cock falls off because you're just standing there, I'll hex yours until it looks like a pretzel, and you can try explaining that to the birds you try to get into the broom cupboard back at school."

"Okay, okay. Hold still. I'll help you."

And he did. But he washed his hands afterwards in water so hot that they were red and puffy when he finished.

~0-0~

And later that night, as they headed out the Muggle club, Charlie opted for a pair of pull up sweats—something without a zipper, for they were evil. He was convinced whoever created them was a dark wizard out to make all Muggle men suffer.

Fin

_Author's Note: Originally written for the prompt of zipper at the drabble fest at charlieficathon on live journal._


End file.
